


As It Should Be (Back Where You Belong)

by Diana_Prallon



Series: History Books Forgot About Us [39]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Arthur Pendragon Returns, Friendship/Love, Future Fic, Hopeful Ending, Long-Term Relationship(s), Love, M/M, Major Character Undeath, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 02:35:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4902241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diana_Prallon/pseuds/Diana_Prallon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin believed no more, cared no more, hoped no more.<br/>Until the dragon rose in the sky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As It Should Be (Back Where You Belong)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the merlin_writers trope bingo - for my songfic square.
> 
> The song, naturally, does not belong to me; it belongs to Los Hermanos. It's called "Último Romance", which roughly translates as "the ultimate romance"; which is charmingly like Merthur. The translation, on the other hand, was made by me, and I've tried to keep the meaning intact while maintaining some of the rhythm - I've also changed to pronouns to fit, because, why not? 
> 
> Merlin & Arthur also don't belong to me, of course, but you all know that.
> 
> Final note: this is cheesy as hell, but I love this song, and it always makes me think of them - of Arthur back to Merlin's side - and as this seems to be my 200th fic on AO3, I found it to be a good match for the mellow mood I'm in.

 

  
**_Eu encontrei quando não quis_ **

  
_(I found it when I didn't want)_

  
**_Mais procurar o meu amor_ **

  
__(_ To look for my love anymore _)__

  
**_E o quanto levou, foi pr' eu merecer_ **

  
__(_ And how long it took, was so that I'd deserve it _)__

  
**_Antes um mês, eu já não sei_ **

  
__(_ A month earlier, I'm not so sure... _)__

 

 

Hope is a privilege of mortals.

  
Once years become decades, decades become centuries, and centuries become millenniums, hoping is as foolish as believing.

  
He had stopped believing long ago, sunk into the inevitability of his long, long life.

  
There was nothing that could bring his King back — even if he was meant to return one day — and it was his fault, his fault alone. He was had failed his destiny, and Albion had fallen.

  
From the world where they had lived, there was almost nothing left.

  
The hills still stood, immortal like him. But even the lake had dried under the hands of men.

  
As dry as his heart, as the wandered alone through a world where nothing could offer comfort.

  
The lights had gone out when Arthur’s eyes closed for the last time, and everything since them was but a long twilight that he couldn’t avoid.

  
He kept his vigil, because there was nothing else left undone in the world for him. He had seen civilisations rise and fall, all sorts of leaders and villains, he had seen himself and all those he loved — all those he hated — becoming but a legend, a tale that children heard but never truly believed.

  
In that, they were the same.

  
Merlin believed no more, cared no more, hoped no more.

  
Until the dragon rose in the sky.

  
In his long life, he had learnt a lot. He was no young warlock, and he knew all that was to know about the stars — about comets and how they worked.

  
And yet — _yet_ — he couldn’t deny the magic that lived inside him, or the way it pulsed when it started approaching the sky.

  
It was no mere star; no simple comet. It shone in gold in the midst of a cloud of red, a perfect dragon, drawn as a banner he hadn’t seen in more years than he cared to count.

  
Suddenly, hope sprang anew.

 

 

**_E até quem me vê_ **

  
_(And even who sees me _ _)___

  
**_Lendo jornal, na fila do pão_ **

  
_(Reading the news, buying some food _ _)___

  
**_Sabe que eu te encontrei_ **

  
_(Knows that I've found you _ _)___

  
**_E quem dirá que é tarde demais?_ **

  
_(And who will say that it's too late? _ _)___

  
_**Que é tão diferente assim?** _

  
_(That it is as different as it is? _ _)___

  
**_Do nosso amor, a gente é quem sabe, pequena._ **

  
_(We are the the ones who know of our love, sweetheart _ _)___

 

 

In the end, it was simple — so simple.

  
Like slots coming into place, like pieces of a puzzle that even after so long apart, couldn’t help but fit again perfectly.

  
Arthur is still a King, even if he has no crown. He is, also, still a prat.

  
It brought it all back to him: his powers, his hopes, his youth — and, almost unbelievably, his smile.

  
Merlin knew he looked like a lunatic, going through every day chores as with a grin that could split his face in half, but he did not care.

  
He is back — and suddenly, everything is back with him — feelings that he had long accepted and buried, sounds he had forgotten and remembered, smells he had drowned in and left behind.

  
It seemed impossible that the whole world doesn’t know that he is back — the once and future king, stepping in the same streets all those people did.

  
But, of course they knew — on some level — because all parts of him exulted in it, drowning the world in magic once again; finally out of the crystal cave that his heart had become.

  
It may be far too much — far too mystical or far too profound for them to understand. It was nothing like the movies — no immediate hugs, no kissing under the rain, no mere tears. It was nothing like the stories — no mere friendship, no mentoring, no guidance. It may be too much of all things, mixed together in one, on an all-encompassing feeling that changed the world without meaning to.

  
Still, it was also very much like any other relationship in human life: good days and bad days, highs and lows, accusations, tears, guilt, joy, pleasure.

  
Merlin didn’t mind that no one else could fully understand it — understand him, understand _them_ — they are, once again, at once and that is all that matters.

 

 

**_Ah vai,_ **

  
_(Come on,)_

  
**_Me diz o que é o sufoco_ **

  
_(Tell me what is tough )_

  
**_Que eu te mostro alguém_ **

  
_(That I'll show you someone)_

  
**_A fim de te acompanhar_ **

  
_(Willing to follow you)_

  
**_E se o caso for de ir a praia_ **

  
_(And if we'll go to the shore)_

  
**_Eu levo essa casa numa sacola_ **

  
_(I'll take this house in a pouch)_

 

 

There is no crisis, no urgent need, nothing that summoned Arthur back to the living. There is no war, no need for a leader, no need for anything. It was as if universe had simply gotten tired of waiting and decided to spit him back, exactly the same as the day where he had been sent to Avalon.

  
Then again, every single hour is a crisis in itself: it is not easy for a man to suddenly step out of a place, hundreds of years in the future. Arthur didn’t know the first thing about living in a modern era, and everything was cause for frustration and difficulty. He didn’t recognise the language, he didn’t trust things that were commonplace. Merlin, who had spent most of his youth trying to protect him from knowing anything that might hurt his feelings, was put in a position where he couldn’t protect Arthur from his feelings — from himself. Yet, he never wavered, ready to stand by his side every step of the way, the same way he had done before.

  
There was no challenge they couldn’t face now that they were back together.

  
Except, perhaps, the challenge of sharing their own feelings, their own thoughts.

  
Neither had ever been particularly good with words. Age hadn’t helped much in that.

  
Merlin was ready to follow, to keep things as they were — safe, warm, friendly — but it was impossible. For all that he tried to run away from acknowledging it, Arthur wasn’t one to let things undone.   
So, he had no choice but to follow were he led — to intertwined hands and touching lips, to blushing cheeks and harsh breaths.

  
_This_ was not a choice he could regret.

 

 

**_Eu encontrei-a e quis duvidar_ **

  
_(I've found him and wanted to doubt)_

  
**_Tanto clichê, deve não ser_ **

  
_(Such a cliche, it can't be)_

  
**_Você me falou, pr'eu não me preocupar_ **

  
_(You told me not to worry)_

  
**_Ter fé e ver coragem no amor_ **

  
_(To have faith and see courage in love)_

 

 

Even as his magic pulsed on the same beat of the shining star, he doubted it. This couldn’t be it — couldn’t be the moment where Arthur returned. It couldn’t be that simple — that obvious.

  
And yet, there he was.

  
Glorious, in chainmail and armour, golden hair shining red under the light that led him back there — back to where Avalon had once been.

  
There was a smile in the King’s face as he spotted his former servant, a light in his eyes.

  
And Merlin — he couldn’t handle it, couldn’t take it. He fell to his knees, sobs robbing him of breath as he cried the tears he swore that had been dried centuries before. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t believe, not until the knight knelled in front of him and wrapped him in his arms.

  
“ Shh” he had said, his voice soft and oh-so-familiar. “Just hold me — again.”

  
And Merlin did.

 

 

**_E só de te ver, eu penso em trocar_ **

  
_(And from just looking at you, I think about trading)_

  
**_A minha tv, num jeito de te levar_ **

  
_(My TV in a way of taking you)_

  
**_A qualquer lugar que você queira_ **

  
_(Anywhere you want might wish)_

  
**_E ir onde o vento for_ **

  
_(And go where the wind goes)_

  
**_Que pra nós dois_ **

  
_(That for the two of us)_

  
**_Sair de casa já é se aventurar_ **

  
_(Leaving the house is already an adventure)_

 

 

Everything Merlin had ever dreamed of had become true — and what else can one want after it? As he watched the sunrise’s light trickling through the window and kissing Arthur’s naked body — alive, _so_ alive — Merlin found out that he could, indeed, want more.

  
He wanted Arthur to see it all — to have it all. All the world, all wonders that he hadn’t been able to enjoy. All the life had hadn’t been able to have the first time around.

  
Arthur was there, next to him, and he trusted him, knew all about him, believed in him, and, miracle of miracles, _loved_ him.

  
There was _nothing_ he wouldn’t do for Arthur — nothing he would say no to. And if that resulted in ridiculous, often hilarious activities, so be it.

  
It was an adventure, the one they had never gotten to have the first time around.

  
The adventure of peace — the adventure of following your heart and nothing else.

  
The adventure of them.

 

 

**_Ah vai,_ **

  
_(Come on,)_

  
**_Me diz o que é o sufoco_ **

  
_(Tell me what is tough )_

  
**_Que eu te mostro alguém_ **

  
_(That I'll show you someone)_

  
**_A fim de te acompanhar_ **

  
_(Willing to follow you)_

  
**_E se tempo for te levar_ **

  
_(And if time decides to take you away)_

  
**_Eu sigo essa hora e pego carona_ **

  
_(I'll follow your hour and take a ride)_

  
**_Pra te acompanhar_ **

  
_(To be by your side)_

 

 

Years pass them by, much faster than the centuries before had been. Together, they see the world.

  
They visit the seven wonders of the world, ancient and new. They explore different cultures, different people. They even risk leaving the planet altogether — if only to decide it isn’t that fun.

  
They spend all days together, every single hour — even when they are angry, even when they are fighting. It can never be enough, the thirst for each other can never be fully sated, not while there is life in their bodies. They lay together for hours in silence, limbs wrapped around each other, like an alive Christmas gift.

  
One day — decades and decades later, Merlin sees it for the first time.

  
There are new lines in Arthur’s face, around his eyes, over his forehead. And there, right next to an old scar, there is a silver line tainting the gold.

  
His heart clenches at the idea of losing him again, the idea of being once again alone, roaming around the universe with nothing to wait for this time — but Arthur just laugh his fears away.

  
With a heart stopping smile and a gentle nudge, he shows Merlin himself in the mirror.

  
After all these years, his reflection is that of a stranger — but there is no denying the tell-tale signs in his own hair, strands of grey he had never developed without magic to change his face.

  
“You’re not getting rid of me this time” Arthur murmurs, nuzzling his ear, and Merlin’s heart almost bursts with love and relief.

  
“No — no” he agrees. “I’m coming right with you.”

  
This time, they would leave together.

  
(And together they stayed even well beyond — through death, and life, and death and life again — never stopping, never parting — as it should be with two sides of a single coin).


End file.
